The Return
by HighFunctioningSoiopath
Summary: Molly gives John Sherlock's phone. (Just as a note:Everywhere I typed Mrs.Hudson my computer deleted it, and I don't know if I fixed it or not. Just in case it isn't fixed, so you won't be wondering why there are random blank spots.)


All John could think of was Sherlock as he entered the flat. Although it had been months since Sherlock died he was still all John could think of when he saw the bullet holes in the wall, Sherlock's violin and compositions right where he left them. All his stuff, untouched. John didn't dare to move them, thinking he might come back.

came in as John was sitting down, groaning. His limp was back. The pain was even worse than before he met Sherlock.

"A lovely young lady is here to see you, John." said as she and Molly entered the room together, "Would you two like some tea?"

"Tea would be nice, thank you" Molly answered.

retreated to the kitchen and Molly sat down in Sherlock's chair. John winced.

"How have you been?" Molly asked carefully.

"Ah,okay." John replied absent-mindedly. He was staring out the window into the rain, thinking about all the people walking around care-free. The thought repulsed him.

"I have something for you."She said suddenly.

Great, John thought. Another sympathy gift. He had been given plenty in the previous months and had had enough of the pity.

"I don't want it. Ok?!" John snapped as Molly pulled out Sherlock's phone. He gasped. "I'm so sorry! I thought-" He apologized quickly.

She handed it to him slowly. "Sherlock told me to give this to you. He said it would show you the truth. He wanted to tell you himself, but..." she explained.

"Why did you wait until now? Couldn't you have done this sooner?!" John was starting to get angry, so he stood up and started pacing. He didn't need his cane, that didn't matter now.

"He said to give it to you when it was safe. Moriarty may have been dead, but he wasn't gone, you know. Sherlock was just trying to protect you."

John walked to the window with the phone in his hand. He pressed a button and it powered up. The last time Sherlock held this he was about to jump, John thought. A tear ran down his face and hit the window sill.

"How will this show me the truth?" John asked quietly.

"Um...That he didn't tell me. I'm sure there's something, though." Molly replied.

"Thank you, Molly. Really." He said as he turned towards her.

She smiled politely. came in with a tea pot and three cups. She poured them full and sat down across from Molly. John sat down and browsed the phone as Molly and made small talk.

First he looked at the text messages Sherlock had sent. The only ones were to John and the occasional message sent to Mycroft. Nothing after that day.

As John moved to the recordings at last he found something. He put the phone up to his ear and listened. He heard Sherlock's voice and nearly leapt out of his chair. He calmed down and continued. Moriarty was talking with Sherlock. He said everything, not knowing Sherlock was recording it.

John knew Sherlock wasn't a fake from the start, he didn't need to hear the recording to know that. He would never stop believing in Sherlock, even if others thought he was a fake. Most of the ones that believed in him were in this room.

He interrupted as was telling Molly how to make biscuits extra flaky. "We have proof now." He played it for them.

After it finished playing and John argued about whether or not they should show it to others. The doorbell rang and went to sit up. "It's okay. I'll get it." Molly said to her. They continued talking until John heard a creak on the stairs.

He jumped up and went to the door to the flat to see who it was. He saw a familiar shadow making its way up the stairs slowly. No. It can't be, he thought. He ran down the stairs.

He was met by Mycroft. "Y-your coat." John stuttered.

"It's raining outside. What, did you expect me to wear shorts?" Mycroft said as he sat next to .

John walked back to his chair slowly and sank back down into it. He drank his tea in silence for a while, then told them he was going to bed. He retreated to his bedroom for the night. As he went to lay down he saw a shadow in the corner, sitting in his desk chair.

"Hello, John." The familiar voice said calmly. John walked over to turn on his desk light to see if it truly was him. Sherlock's curls were illuminated as the light flicked on and he smiled.

John reached out to touch Sherlock, to test if what he was seeing was real. Sherlock's grin widened.

"It's really me, John. Are you going to talk?"

"You're dead!" John whispered violently.

"Clearly not."

"How could you do this?!" John reached out to touch Sherlock's face again but instead took the opportunity and punched him in the nose.

"Ow! John! Why did you have to punch me?" Sherlock asked as he leaned his head down and held his face.

"Sherlock, why did you have to _die_?!"

"I had to!" Sherlock tried to reason,"Moriarty's people had to see me die, or they would have killed you..." Sherlock looked genuinely sad,"a-and . They would have killed you all."

"Sherlock-"

"I'm sorry." Sherlock said as he hung his head.

"You have no idea what we went through. Molly, , Mycroft, we all had no idea what to do with ourselves."  
Sherlock looked away guiltily and closed his eyes. "Molly knew. She had to help me." He said quickly. John punched Sherlock again and walked to his bed to sit down.

"Do you really have to keep doing that?! It does hurt, you know!"

"So did you dying, Sherlock!" John said,"I had to go to your funeral. Do you have any idea what that feels like? To have someone just leave all of a sudden?"

"I do. It was hard for me, too." Sherlock looked down as he talked,"I missed you, John. I really did."

"I'm so sorry, Sherlock. I didn't know." John hung his head,"Sorry I punched you."

"It's okay. I deserved it. I really did."

"No, you didn't deserve getting punched for coming back, let alone twice! I'm glad you're back. Is it safe for you to be here?" John asked, worried.

"Yes. I think so. Thank you." Sherlock smiled at John.

"I'll get you something for your..um..face." John said as he walked to the bathroom.

John walked into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He smiled. His leg felt better already. He had his detective back.

Sherlock grinned to himself while John was in the bathroom. He finally had back his blogger...his friend.


End file.
